We were heading to Bloubergstrand on the southwest coast of South Africa, through the Namaqualand desert. When we reached the top of the hill, the sight that began to unfold before our eyes in the morning sun, was nothing short of breathtaking! As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, the myriad of closed blossoms began to open as they were energized by that orange orb we call the sun, revealing an unfurling carpet of desert flowers of all shades and colors. , covering the desert as far as the eye could see!

Namaqualand was in full bloom. An event that takes place briefly, perhaps a couple of weeks, each spring. As I enjoyed this enlivening and energizing scene, I got to thinking about how we are so similar to those desert flowers. We are so self-conscious and timid, and lacking in self-confidence or so filled with feelings of unworthiness, that we protect ourselves like those flowers do. Flowers have a very good reason to be closed in the form of a bud, the darkness cannot give them the energy they need to open and bloom.

Our reasons, however, are not so logical and scientific. Our ‘darkness’ is man-made and artificial, that is, we create the ‘darkness’ through our misinterpretation of ourselves and our fellow human beings, we refuse to accept ourselves as we are, we hide and crush our spirit because we are too terrified to reveal our true selves to someone for fear of rejection. To continue the analogy, when ‘sunshine’ enters our lives, in the form of an encouraging and supportive friend or anything inspiring (be it a book, a seminar, a talk, a glimmer of divine understanding). and the power within us, etc., etc.) .), we open up and begin to bloom, brazenly and shamelessly, revealing all our glory like that of a beautiful, scented flower of Namaqualand!

Dr. Maxwell Maltz once said, “Even though I would redo people’s faces, my patients still couldn’t blossom. Because the self-esteem problem is within us, it cannot be corrected with surgery, so my patients , they continued to suppress their true natures.”

To further clarify the analogy, consider the rose. She also waits for the sun, in the form of a cocoon. As the soft rays of the sun begin to caress it, she begins to open up, petal by petal, revealing her incomparable beauty to us. Rose doesn’t just look good, it smells good, it feels good, it tastes good, that’s right, if you’ve never tried rose petal jam, you’re in for a treat when you do. Why are we not like the rose? Why do we walk with “masks”? Society and the environment discourage us a lot from showing our individuality.

“Accord” is the very clear message we receive, almost from the moment we are born.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Why can’t you be more like him/her, etc., etc.?”

“Behave!”

“Stay still, shut up, don’t talk!”

“For!”

“No! Don’t do that. Don’t do this!”

“Nobody’s done it like this before, don’t you try it either!”

“Who do you think you are?”

“You can’t do this, you can’t do that!”

Society in general sends you the unequivocal message to conform! What’s the point of living our lives like everyone else? What new and refreshing ideas will we bring to the world if we do that? Clearly, one of the biggest crimes we can commit is to erase individuality every chance we get. In this way, we would have no ‘Noahs’ to save the world, no Edisons to ‘enlighten’ us, no Fords to get us rolling, no Beethovens to calm our nerves, no Aristotles, etc. etc

OK Let’s talk about this for a while. Why, even though we know the above to be the truth, do we still hide our real selves so deeply? I don’t exclusively know why, nor do I claim to have all the answers by any stretch of the imagination. All I can do is share my odyssey with you as I wandered the dark halls of loneliness and misery with my false mask on well. I watched, green with envy, as others lived life, having the most fun interacting with other people, letting their sun shine through their souls to others, while suffocating mine. I kept burying it deeper and deeper into the darkest chambers of my aching heart. I watched as those among us, who were wounded with a healthy dose of self-acceptance, cavorted and danced through life, laughing and spreading their contagious laughter, while I strangled mine.

I remember a particularly moving moment. A group of us, all young singles, were out on a picnic, blankets spread out under the shade of the trees, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. And I watched as two friends of mine, a boy and a girl, began to tickle each other, laughter mingling with the sheer delight of the youthful moment, wrestling in each other’s arms as they rolled, and I cried inside. I cried because I longed to live like this, longed with a deep, heartbreaking longing to be able to allow myself to do this, to have grabbed a girl and frolicked on the blanket with her, not with any lustful thought in my mind, but for the joy and purity of the moment. Seeing our problem, as described here, is half the battle won. Of course, most people are not even aware of this problem.

I died a thousand, miserable deaths, before one of the most wonderful women in the whole world (my wife), met me (mind you I said she met me, man, I couldn’t meet anyone if I tried), and the long healing process for one of the greatest emotional misfits to ever walk this blessed earth. It was (it still has this effect on me, seventeen years later) absolute bliss and a lot of fear at first, when he started touching me and hugging me and loving me and whispering sweet words in my ears, aaahhhh, that’s how the world’s coldest iceberg began to thaw , left over and forgotten from the ice age. I am still her very compliant slave, totally wrapped around her little finger, fully enjoying this goddess of love sent into my life to save me from emotional starvation, to cure me of the greatest curse on earth, lack of self-acceptance How did she do this miracle? She loved and accepted me unconditionally (within decent, moral, and uplifting limits, I’m not advocating here, I have never and will never suggest that we accept abusive behavior in any size, shape, or form), that’s it, simple as that, and however, this is the deepest philosophy and the most difficult to put into practice. This, I feel, is another big key, the concept of unconditional acceptance of each other. Without it, we not only crush those around us, but also condemn ourselves to loneliness and frustration.

I found it the most terrifying thing in the world to be my true self, because it is not at all easy to break the shackles of slavery that have enslaved us for so long in solitary and life-threatening habits. I well remember my first hesitant steps. It seemed like this stage lasted forever and I’m still a long way from being the person I ultimately want myself to be, but I’m on the right track now at least, and the journey is sweet and sweeter. as I get more and more in touch with that authentic me inside of me that I have suppressed for so long. I died a thousand deaths as I plunged into uncharted waters simultaneously trying to be my true self and also to discover my true self, because you see, I didn’t know who I was.

Self-discovery is a journey that we all must undertake, for a simple reason. Without self-acceptance life is hell, but self-acceptance is not possible without self-knowledge, and self-knowledge is not possible without embarking on a journey of self-discovery. This can be extremely overwhelming if you stop and think, “Where do I start and how will I know if I got there?” Take heart, dear soul, it’s not that bad, although I also thought it was mission impossible when I first realized it. Above all, let self-discovery be fun, even though it can be bittersweet at times, that’s okay, it’s part of the healing and the journey. My wife helped me tremendously as we opened our hearts to each other, a great key to self-discovery. I had to demolish my own private and personal Fort Knox, which I had built around the real me and share it, piece by piece with my wife, as she opened up and shared her real self with me. Humor and a conscious effort to make the trip sweet also help. Most of us take ourselves too seriously and don’t consciously plan to enjoy our lives. It’s crazy, but it’s almost like we’re waiting for ‘fate’ to sweeten our lives. Why don’t we pick up the phone and meet up with a good friend, for example, and do something healthy and fun?

The other big thing that helped me was books and audiotapes, by the hundreds. I devoured books by legends like Norman Vincent Peale, Og Mandino, Maxwell Maltz, Napoleon Hill, Dale Carnegie, Wayne Dyer, Stuart Wilde, Jacqueline and Jess Lair, Orisson Swett Marden, Barbara Sher, Robert Fulghum, Gerald Jampolsky, Lou Tice. , Mohammed Ali, Winston Churchill, Plato, Mike Wickett and others of that genre. These people (some of them are already dead, others are getting on in years), along with my wife, saved my life. His writings and talks bathed my soul for thousands of hours, filling me with new life, new hope, new love and zest for life.

One of the most liberating experiences in life is to shed the masks we wear and just be ourselves. My whole point is this: we think we have to go around pretending to be someone else. Consequently, we enslave ourselves and become miserable, it’s hard to impersonate someone else, isn’t it? It puts undue stress on us. Well, it’s not necessary. We are unique! People enjoy and appreciate uniqueness and authenticity, so why dress up as someone we can never be and, frankly, don’t really want to be?

I remember well how I slaved in high school. I, along with all the other students in my class, failed an “Afrikaans” language test. The teacher gave us all a tremendous reprimand, she struck a chord within me, I was not going to fail a test again. I learned the lesson word for word, therefore I got an A+ for it. This achievement earned me high praise from the master, however now I had a reputation to uphold. I had to memorize each Afrikaans lesson to get good grades. Now, there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as this is what you want. The problem was, that wasn’t me! I didn’t know how to speak Afrikaans and at the time I didn’t really want to learn, so I put on the mask of an Afrikaans scholar, which I clearly wasn’t, and paid for it.

The incident I just told you about was a Sunday picnic compared to the many, many agonies I went through as a result of wearing my masks. What if I “wasted” forty years of my life? For forty long years I was so afraid of being me that I crucified my authentic self a million times over by covering it up and wearing the many fake masks I made.

Dear friend, do yourself a great favor, throw off the many masks you wear to hide your true self and allow yourself to blossom like the rose. Others will see your beauty for the first time and their jaws will drop, because the real you is wonderfully and breathtakingly beautiful. Flaunt his uniqueness and individuality, don’t suppress it, after all, we’re all drawn to the real McCoy while despising fakery.